


The Scrapbook

by 5s Old Stuff (5557)



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Drabbles, Multi, Prompt Fill, Zine Work, misc fiction, short story collection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2018-09-07 05:10:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8784382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5557/pseuds/5s%20Old%20Stuff
Summary: Short stories, one-shots, zine work and prompt fillsMultifandom and multishipDetailed tags inside for each work





	1. Fiery Bonds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay, but- One of the paladins having a breakdown and their lion comforting them. I'ma need a fic o’ that right quick-like.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Relationships:** None, Keith  & Red Lion  
>  **Tags:** Canon-typical violence, Keith being self-sacrificial like it's Tuesday, not really character death, because I'm sure somebody saves him, Red Lion is a hardass, but she does it out of love

So this was what dying meant.

Alarms blared as smoke filled the cabin and Keith was trying to shake the spots from his eyes and the metallic tang of blood in his mouth. They wouldn’t be able to take another hit like that.

Around him, on every screen, warnings flashed as new targets flew into vision. There were _so many_ , filling the space around him; there wasn’t going to be an escape. Keith coughed, sucking in bitter air as the thick smoke flooded in from the electrical fires burning in his ship and his vision temporarily blurred. He clung to consciousness, but barely.

Now might be the time to slip away. To let go. He was in pain, and his Lion was damaged. Maybe he’d made the wrong choice. He’d bitten off more than he could chew. Keith laughed a little laugh to himself. His fingers relaxed from the controls. One more hit was all he needed. One more hit and it would be over.

_Get up._

Keith felt the pulse in his mind. It wasn’t just words, it was a force, pushing him.

_Get up._

He wanted to resist it. He was tired.

_How dare you. We’ve come this far._

_Get up._

Red. Her fiery personality burned at the back of his mind, temper clawing at his thoughts.

_I chose you. I gave to you. We’ve come this far, you and I._

Keith sighed as his vision swam, and a blast of plasma fire glanced off of his failing shields, shreiking alarms nothing more than a faint hum in the back of his mind.

_Get up!_

Keith groaned. His numb body was sliding down in his seat. He was fading away.

_Fool child! I’d bite your disobedient neck if you were outside me now! I haven’t given you my bonded self for nothing! All that I am, all that you are, we are together. And that will not be broken by our foes!_

_Get up!_

Keith could no longer feel his own breath in his chest. His gasps came as a slow rattle in his ears.

_Live! I demand it! Fight! I’ll not go down shaking and baying in fear! I’ll claw and thrash and spit fire until my last! I demand it of you! Fight! Get up!_

Will. Her will was still strong, stronger than ever. She would never give up, not under any odds. That was what Keith loved about her. She would never abandon him, or their cause, no matter how bleak.

_We will go down fighting. And this enemy will know that we were never theirs to demand submission._

Keith gripped the controls a little harder.

_We, your chosen bonds, who have seen more than human eyes can see and lived more than human lives can know, we chose your spark._

Keith hauled himself up in the seat as sweeping pain rolled throughout his spent body.

_I chose your flame of will._

Keith’s bayard materialized in his hand.

_You brought us hope for the future!_

The deafening screech of the alarms filled his ears as another round of plasma fire was headed straight for him.

_For once in ten thousand years we had a chance! Freedom is within our grasp and I will not stop, I will not lower my head for an instant until our enemies lie torn and helpless before us! I will not let you stop! I will not stop! We will never stop fighting!_

Keith jammed his bayard into the socket and turned it fully, and the cockpit flared with a burst of energy. Guns formed on the outside of his ship and took aim, waiting on the both of them to fire.

_You, my chosen son; heir to my body, speaker to my soul._

Time seemed to pass in slow motion as blinding light surrounded him.

_I chose you._

_And I chose well._


	2. Shiny and Smooth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just want Lance waxing his leg while talking to Hunk in their room and idk someone else interupt them? Join em?

“Why are you doing this?” asked Hunk, “It’s going to take you _hours._ ”

Lance threw the rag down on the ground, stretching his arms and arching his back.

“I owe it to her. She’s beautiful. She’s carried me so far. I want her chrome to shine bright _like a diamond_ , Hunk.”

“So you’re gonna wax your entire lion?” Hunk raised his eyebrow quizically.

“Yes," Lance replied, bending down to pick up the polish rag off the floor, "Now, if you’ll _excuse_ me.”

He’d barely finished the area of his ship within arm’s reach. He’d have to go grab a ladder soon. Granted, the lower area of the front paw he’d been working for the past while was so polished, Hunk could see his face reflected in the ship’s surface. Lance grinned to himself, Clearly enjoying the view.

“Glad you two have that bond, buddy.”

“Hey,” said Lance, “You wanna give me a hand? There’s still a chunk of asteroid jammed in her claws from that last battle.”

“Um, no? You wanna have a spa day with your lion, fine. I have actual repairs to do around the castle.”

“Please, Hunk? She’s been telling me non-stop how much it annoys her.”

Lance curled his lip up in the trademark pout he knew Hunk couldn’t resist. Hunk tried to avoid looking at him, but Lance circled around his best friend all the while intensifying his comically wistful expression.

Of course he knew how to manipulate him, Lance had been getting hunk into trouble for over ten years. Surely this was the least stupid idea of his in the last month.

“Ugh. Fine. I’ll go grab something to wedge it out,” Hunk called over his shoulder as he left for the tool storage area off to the side of the hangar.

Humming and muttering his favourite Dragonforce tune to himself, Hunk sorted between several power tools out of the rows in the mechanical storage until he found a good motorized pair of pliers that would be able to wedge a deeply jammed piece of stone or metal shrapnel out of a Lion-shaped battleship’s paw.

He was just about to unhook the tool from its hanger when he heard the massive stomping of a moving ship. Where was Blue going? More and more movement thumped around outside in teh hangar as Hunk shouldered the giant power-vice and left, shutting off the light behind him.

Then he saw it. Or rather, them.

Four other lions were now crowded around Lance, who was cheerfully flailing his waxing rag in the air, happily promising spit and polish to _all of them._

“Oh, Jeez,” thought Hunk.

He was gonna be there all week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Send prompts to <http://autisticvoltronld.tumblr.com>


	3. A Modern Band of Knights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you write the cliche trope about deaged team member? Than u

“Paladins! Get to your vehicles! Promptly!” Duchess Allura screamed into the sonophone from the level above, and her amplified voice echoed throughout the manor. Shiro was starting to rethink joining his estranged cousin’s crusade for righteousness. The beastly machines were dangerous, after all.

The tiny child Kaitlyn scurried past the door, her petticoats all aflutter, and her cheeks a bright pink with exertion. She doubled back quickly when she saw him.

“Come! We’re needed!” she panted in the doorway.

Shiro reservedly curled up his newsprint magazine and placed it on the side-table, switching off the glazed electric lamp and placing his pipe on its stand. He rose, rolling his smoking jacket off of his shoulders and placing it on its hookstand by the door. The fire burned, low and comforting in the mantle, and Shiro briefly regretted that he would lose such relaxing evening to his cousin's eccentric machinations.

Another night, another thrilling escapade into adventure and destruction. What was it this time? A robbery? A murder? A mystery afoot? In the queen's name, he’d never make such an utterance out loud, but he was excited.

Shiro increased his pace from a steady saunter to a gleeful jog as two more rapscallions ran past him down the long, elegantly furnished hallways of the English manor.

“Last one there is a sorry bar of soap!” shouted Lance, still trying to pull on his duster coat over his jacket, one of his suspenders unclipped from its stay. The other, Keith, was catching up to him, nearly knocking over a vase in his haste to surpass Lance on his way down to the Lions.

Shiro arrived to the great garage and took in the marvelous sight of their vehicle for tonight’s heroic venture.

A motorized vehicle stood before him, powered by electricity and fossilized fuels, revving as Hunkley cranked the engines to their roaring start.

“Lions” she called them, the four sidecars that attached to the main fuselage. They served as horse and carriage for his motley crew, and certainly they created a great ruckus out in the countryside as Allura’s band of roving heroes set about to right wrongs and restore peace to greater London.

“Your goggles, chap,” said Keith, as he handed Shiro a pair of leather eyewear, necessary when the great beast spat up a good rock from time to time, “Shall I put them on you, old bean?”

“I do say that would be a charm,” said Shiro. He was still unused to the loss of his arm, and the brass and clockwork one that Kaitlyn had engineered for him was uncoordinated when it came to the more delicate movements of the hand.

Keith slipped the goggles over Shiro’s head and tightened the clasp, as Shiro nodded his head in thanks. When he looked up, Duchess Allura was in the doorway.

“Lest I forget, dear paladins, your bayards!”

She opened a studded leather suitcase revealing a velvet interior and five handsomely crafted revolvers.

“Tonight’s foe is a murderer in the loose! He’s been spotted down by the river attacking fair citizens at night and towing their bodies away under cover of dark! A truly gruesome crime!”

She set the case out upon a table, picking one up and staring down the sight.

“Sounds like a vicious cad! I’ll set him right-what!” shouted Lance, already settled in his sidecar and ready to go.

“Lance, your bayard!” Hunkley had grabbed the polished blue weapon and a leathern clasp of ammunition, handing them to Lance and climbing in the opposite car.

“Much appreciated, my dear friend,” Lance nodded, a swarthy smile upon his face.

“Ah, and I shan’t let you forget last time, whence you were sorely unprepared for the fight!” Laughed Keith, tucking his trusty sword away in its scabbard, “A gentlemen may need no weapon, but only a fool walks into a battle with nothing but his lack of wits!”

“Have at you!” shouted Lance, “Why, I should bare my fists upon you right this instant!”

He reached over to slap Keith in the other car, and the two swatted mighty blows until Shiro had suffered quite enough.

“Temperance! You two! If we’re to catch the Riverside Reaper, we need to coalesce as a functioning unit! Set aside your churlish tomfoolery for now and we shall revisit your grievances come morning!”

Lance huffed a breathy sigh and settled into his cart, tweaking the mirror and running his fingers along the heavy mounted gun. Shiro knew he sorely wished to use it.

“Alright, paladins! Away and into the night! Justice shall be brought!” Allura’s voice rang above the mighty roar of the engines and Shiro slammed the clutch, throwing the mighty beast into forward gear.

He gripped the steering handles as Kaitlyn giggled in her seat, eager for another night to try one of her new mechanical inventions.

This was what he lived for.

This was the future!


	4. Purfect Fusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can you make a short story where Lance is part cat? I don't care how you do it, as long as Lance has cute fluffy ears and purrs. Thank You!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Relationships:** None (klance maybe?) Lance  & Blue  
>  **Tags:** Lance gets cat powers, implied injury, non-explicit violence, humour, author being a dick about prompts

“Am I… dead?” He asked, as bright blue light surrounded him. There was a chill to the air he didn’t like, centred around his chest.

And then he looked down.

The scorched wound shocked him, causing his breath to hitch in his throat. And yet, as he stared at it, it didn’t hurt.

Blue light was emanating from the wound, and slowly, miraculously, before his very eyes blackened flesh began to turn pink, and blistered skin began to smooth itself.

“My chosen son,” the deep, warm voice echoed around him, “I cannot allow it. Not now. Not after all we’ve done.”

“Oh,” said Lance.

He tried rolling over, but in his disoriented state he found his body flailing in the lack of gravity. He started to panic, and the wound in his chest ached with sharp, stabbing hurt, until the voice returned, murmuring soft laughter.

“Be still, small one.”

Lance tried his best. He held his arms and legs out, arrow-straight, and the world around him slowed from its terrible spin. He chanced another look down. The wound was barely a puckered mark on his chest by now.

“Well now, cubling, that’s not so bad, is it?”

“No,” he sighed, “I guess not.”

Lance looked out at the twinkling stars that filtered into focus, surrounding him in the deep blue twilight ocean.

“Where are we? What’s going to happen now?”

The blue light in front of him seemed to coalesce from misty nothingness into shape and form; two bright stars blinked open as eyes and a mouth creased across shining teeth as long, pearly whiskers twitched in front of him.

Two large, steady paws turned into four, and a smooth tail flicked itself into existence as a lion,  _his_  lion, took her form, approaching him with a slow deliberation that belied her mischievous nature.

“I believe the others have taken you to safety, now.”

“Safety?”

She nodded, nuzzling him as she slipped her massive head under his arms, pressing her heavy brow to his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, my son. You were hurt. It was my fault.”

Lance shook his head, pushing the lion off of him enough to stare into her eyes.

“Blue, we’re in this together. Everything you choose, I choose. Don’t blame yourself.”

Her tail flicked back and forth, and her purr took on an agitated note.

“Perhaps in time, I will forgive myself for what was done to you. But for now, I cannot let you go, cubling. It was never supposed to happen like this.”

“What?” Lance’s heart beat angrily in his chest, “What happened?”

Blue’s only answer was a slow, heavy lick to the side of his head, mussing his hair, and causing Lance to squint under her rough, sandpapery tongue.

“I will let the others explain. For now, I wish to guard you more closely. Will you let me watch over you, Lance?”

“I, uh, suppose so. I mean, you’re already my ship. Are you-” He looked down at the blue light glowing in his newly healed chest as the spectre of the Blue Lion started to disintegrate and fade in front of him. “Oh. I think I get it now.”

He could feel a steady warmth as her light permeated his whole body; an energy returning to his formerly numb limbs. Lance reached up and gingerly traced his fingers across his chest, feeling nothing but smooth brown skin, shivering against the cool air.

He was going to be all right. Blue was watching over him.

Lance’s thoughts drifted into nothingness as he slowly floated down, down, back towards reality, gravity and mortal thoughts. He didn’t know how, he just knew that everything was going to be all right.

* * *

“Lance? Lance, wake up!” Shiro’s voice was over top of him, but that wasn’t who Lance saw when he opened his eyes. Allura’s worried face was close to his own, hovering over him in the cockpit of his ship.

To his side, Pidge and Hunk were crammed into the dashboard, and he could hear Keith hopping around the back, grumbling and trying to edge his way in to get a good look at him.

Lance found himself laughing helplessly. He felt dizzy. He felt nice.

“Your armor, Lance…” Shiro’s voice trailed away and Lance looked down. A jagged, charred hole the size of a dinner plate was missing from the front of his armor, undersuit burned away, leaving his bare chest open to the air.

And yet, not a trace of any wound was visible. As if he were wearing someone else’s damaged uniform.

“I can’t explain it,” said Allura, staring down at him, “Your ship crashed after it was struck. You should-” She paused, but Lance’s slight nod pressed her to continue, “You should be dead, Lance.”

“Actually,” Lance looked around at the faces surrounding him, and the mixture of worry and surprise amongst them, “I feel… kinda fine.”

“I can’t see! What’s going on?” Keith was now trying to shove Shiro out of the way to reach him as Lance sat up from his slouched position in the cockpit seat. Shiro relented after seeming to confirm that there was nothing more he could do, and Keith nearly bowled him over as he tried to retreat and make room. Keith’s eyes met Lance’s own and his concerned frown turned to wide-eyed shock as he took Lance in.

“What?” ask Lance.

Keith was looking around at everyone else, now.

“Nobody mentioned it?”

Allura brushed a piece of hair out of her face. “We were more concerned with Lance’s well-being!”

“But I’m fine!” said Lance, a little more emphatically. He balled up his fist and thumped his chest, hollow thud resonating within him. “Fit as a fiddle!”

As the others stared at him, and Lance’s self-consciousness reached a boiling point, he began patting his arms, and legs and ankles curiously, wondering what everyone was staring at him for. He’d survived other scrapes and skirmishes alright, hadn’t he?

“I like the- uh-” Hunk seemed lost for words, as he gestured towards his head.

“What?” Lance was touching his face now, wondering if the blast had hit his beautiful cheekbones, or singed his hair. He ran his fingers up, probing his hairline, and wondering with mild confusion why everyone else was so tense and hushed around him.

And then he felt them.

“You have ears,” said Keith, incredulously.

Large, fluffy, and definitely not human, the ears stood up straight, parting his short brown hair as Lance ran his fingers along their sensitive edges.

“Well, duh,” Pidge scoffed, “He means you have  _cat_  ears.”


	5. That's Not A Knife, That's A Hammer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hunk and Keith bong over Keith's knife. Hunk has a lot of useful skills.
> 
> This was done for the Golden Days Hunk charity zine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Relationship:** None, Hunk  & Keith  
>  **Tags:** Tool abuse, structural engineering porn, knife hurt/comfort, Hunk has a lot of skills, Keith is a potato

The new leader of Voltron had a lot on his mind. And when Keith had a lot on his mind, he fell back into old, comfortable habits of silence and solitude. On this quiet day, with no battle or other pressing concerns, he sank into the common room couch and unsheathed his knife. From his belt pouch, he pulled the familiar piece of broken ceramic tile he kept tucked away for just such an occasion.

Although Hunk was quietly reading beside him, Keith felt enough privacy that he could freely start grinding the tile against his knife, flicking it along the edge of the blade and causing sparks to fly as he sat with his thoughts.

“You’re wrecking it, you know.” 

Keith heard him mumble the words over his tablet as Hunk reclined on the couch, casually scrolling down the screen with him thumb. Jarred from his own internal narrative, Keith halted his motions, the last spark that flew off the blade quickly fading into nonexistence. 

“What?”

“Your knife,” said Hunk. “You’ve been scraping it on your piece of porcelain, there. Now, I have  _ no _ idea where you got that thing from, and you probably think that you’re sharpening it, when you’re really just killing the edge and raising all the hairs on the back of my neck.”

Keith glanced over at Hunk. His face was still unreadably buried behind his tablet.

“How would you know?”

Hunk squinted over the top of his article. “First of all, I’m a mechanical engineer. I know metal like I know my own family. Secondly, you’re not gonna sharpen it by throwing sparks everywhere. It looks cool, but we’re not camping. You trying to start a fire?”

Keith felt the hot flush of embarrassment burn in his cheeks. This was what he’d always done. And it worked, didn’t it? He kept his knife in proper shape, kept it from getting rusty or dull or broken. Sure, maybe he stabbed at a few things that shouldn’t have been stabbed at, like the sand back home or that chunk of incredibly hard wood he found back on Arus, but generally Keith thought he kept his knife in good working condition!

Hunk’s hand extended ominously towards him. “Can I see?”

The hilt of the blade slapped into Hunk’s palm a little harder than Keith intended. “Alright. Show me.”

His fingers closed around the still-warm handle of the knife, and Hunk’s eyes wandered up and down the length of the blade to the dirty strip of athletic tape Keith was using to cover the Galra symbol on its hilt. He clicked his tongue and ran a calloused thumb along its edge, frowning. 

“Keith, this isn’t a knife, it’s a  _ hammer. _ ”

It was the best he could do.

And then he looked up at Keith, taking in the mixture of pale shock and dire worry written all over his face, and did what Keith least expected:  _ he laughed _ . Keith bit down on the inside of his cheek and made a lunge for his knife. Hunk responded easily by holding it out of reach and tutting. 

“Ah- ah! Nope!” he teased, with his hand planted firmly on Keith’s forehead. “You gave it to me! I’m still looking!”

Keith flopped back onto the couch with a defeated scowl.

As he turned the knife over in his hands, Hunk seemed to pick up on the worry that wrenched at Keith’s gut, and his expression shifted from accusation to a bemused grin. 

“OK, nah. It’s not-  _ that _ bad, dude.”

They both heard the little sigh whistle out of Keith’s mouth.

“I can feel a couple notches in it, but...” He offered the knife back to Keith. “If you let me, I can help you fix that.”

 

* * *

 

Keith had never seen a real whetstone before. He vaguely recalled a few cartoon grinding wheels he’d seen in old medieval fantasy comics, probably where he got the idea for the ceramic tile in the first place. Nor had Keith ever witnessed the way Hunk dipped his fingers into the cup beside him and smeared the surface of the flat grey slab clamped tightly to the kitchen counter, preparing the stone with delicate care and humming as he went.

He watched Hunk apply steady pressure as he moved his knife in quick, even strokes along the length of the slate. He watched as the purple grit dripped off the sides, and he suppressed his amusement at the tiny tip of Hunk’s tongue poking out from between his lips while his brows furrowed in deep concentration.

After a few minutes, Hunk picked up a cloth and wiped the blade clean.

“So we’re done here?” asked Keith.

“Not nearly.”

Then Keith saw Hunk drag out four other blocks from underneath the counter, each finer to the touch than the last.

“That’s just the first stage.”

Hunk took great pains over the course of an hour, softly sliding the knife up and down each block, adding water, wiping the grit. Keith just stood there and watched, mesmerized by the back-and-forth motion of Hunk’s expert hands.

“Why are you working so hard on this?” he asked.

Hunk’s answer was simple. “Because I care.”

After the final few decisive, curving strokes were dealt on a grit so fine it felt like suede, Hunk announced that he was finished. The knife glistened as he wiped it clean one final time.

“So it’s sharp now?”

Hunk hummed his affirmation as he placed Keith’s knife in front of him and started to disassemble the sharpening kit, removing the flat stone from its bracket and unclamping the brace from the table.

“I could have done this on my own, you know.” 

Hunk held out the cloth he’d used to wipe the knife. It had a large, clean diagonal slice running down the middle.

“Yeah, but would it have been as good?”

Keith frowned, once again feeling the sting of mockery. That’s when Hunk’s expression softened.

“I’m not making fun of you, dude.”

“You were.”

“Yeah, OK, a little in the beginning. You got me. But the point is, the job is done better with shared expertise. We’re good at different things, Keith. You wield a knife, I keep it in working order. I give you a sharp knife,” he chuckled, “and you keep the skin on my back.”

Keith’s eyes flitted back and forth between his conditioned knife and Hunk’s broad grin.

“We’re a team, Keith. Just because you’re our leader doesn’t mean you have to do everything alone.”

Hunk finished storing the blocks away and placed his hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“Besides, if you’re gonna pick up an anxious habit, you might as well do it properly.”

“I guess I should come to you for help if I need it.” He paused. “I could… show you how to use a knife. If you wanted.”

Hunk winked at him. “So could I.”

“You’ve seen my cooking, huh?”

“Yeah, I saw how you were living in the shack when we stayed that night.”

Keith could feel that embarrassed flush returning to his cheeks.

Hunk was trying to suppress another laugh. “It was, um,  _ rustic. _ ”

He knew Hunk had seen the dirty hot plate surrounded by jars of peanut butter and cans of beans. Had probably poked at the mouse-eaten boxes of crackers and fitness bars.

“I had other priorities.”

“Relax,” said Hunk, slapping him on the back. “I’m not gonna make fun of you. I was just thinking… Maybe I could show you a few more things.”

And suddenly Keith was swathed in a bright red apron and Hunk was standing beside him, carefully laying out instructions as butter sizzled in a hot pan on the stove behind them. Fresh ingredients were piled high in a bowl and Keith gripped his knife in his hand, marveling at the clean and effortless cuts he was making.

And it was as Hunk was showing Keith how to julienne a bright blue carrot-like tuber that Keith suddenly realised it.

Hunk really was a good friend.


	6. A Perfect World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rejected submission for a Villain!Deku zine.
> 
> They requested 1,000 words to show how the writer interpreted villain Deku's character. I know a lot of people choose a plainly sadistic, sociopathic, or maybe even bitter character for Villain!Deku, but I wanted to explore a person who has taken noble, lawful ideals to the extreme. He may have once had goodness in his heart, but rigid moralizing has twisted his views into fascism and totalitarianism. This Midoriya is the embodiment of the phrase "You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Relationship:** None, Izuku  & Inko  
>  **Tags:** Excessive moralizing of bad things, intolerant extremism, implied imprisonment, epistolary style, implied general dickishness, yikes

Hello mother, I love you.

 

You’ve always held me in such high esteem. You’ve loved me unconditionally since I was small and quirkless and weak. You raised me to be strong and good and kind to the innocent. I cannot thank you enough for that. I wanted to let you know that I love you back. And that everything I do, I do to make things safe for you.

It is a harsh truth, knowing that all humans are not created equal. I felt this firsthand this as a child, at the mercy of my peers. You know with your small quirk. It is a tragedy, this unfairness in our world. Good people are left far behind when the wicked come into undeserved power.

My goal to end that unfairness, that villainy.

I am good, Mother. You raised me to be fair and only use my powers when necessary. And I do, I promise. But there is a problem, and I think you know we’ve been experiencing and ignoring for several generations, now. 

This city, the whole world by extension, is falling to corruption. We still have schools and stores and shopping malls, but at the heart of it, we are losing a battle for the soul of humanity. Society is on the brink as more and more people chose to become villains. They must be stopped by someone. And I was gifted with the power to be that person.

They won’t harm you. No one will hurt you. I will make sure of it. We are building prisons, mother, great and wonderful prisons to hold those who cannot escape a life of crime and villainy. We will reinforce our city with strong walls and shields to protect our children from invaders and criminals, and we will use wonderful new technology to observe and record crimes so that justice can be served! 

Don’t worry, it’s not all fists and fights. We are changing the laws, mother! No longer will you have to live in fear under anarchy and wild lawlessness any time you step out your door! It is not enough to simply charge criminals fines for their repugnant behaviour, or slap them on the wrist and let them go. We will go through our criminal code and rewrite justice and moral goodness into our society. We will make things fair. We will make things better.

I am a hero, mother. That’s what heroes do.

I try not to think about those who have died by my hand. They had their choices. They chose crime. They chose villainy. They chose evil. And evil must be defeated. I am so grateful that you taught me that. All Might taught me that. 

Look, I hope he doesn’t ever hear me say this, but I’m afraid that at his age, All Might is, well… I think he may be losing his touch. These days he talks more about mercy and holding back and letting criminals go ‘for the sake of humanity’. It’s... a strange feeling, watching him stand there as villains escape his grasp and run free. I fear he might be using forgiveness as an excuse to mask his imminent retirement. 

I hope this is only temporary. It’s a sad state of affairs, seeing the man you once looked up to letting criminals escape because he cannot muster the strength to punish them. But I am young, and strong, mom. And I will punish them.

Forgiveness is weak, mother and the hand of justice, peace and order must never be weak. Too many times a criminal will escape, regroup, become stronger from their experience and lash back creating only more chaos and violence. Even former heroes have come to show their true colours lately. Violent, greedy, selfish, only caring about fame or money. They do not care about true justice. They are villains, mother, and villains do not know peace or love. They cannot be forgiven. They can only ever be stopped.

I will not let evil slip through my grasp to terrorize good people another day.

Good people like you, mom.

You have always been so good to me, you’ve been my mother and father when dad wasn’t around. You took care of me, raised me, gave me everything I wanted or needed. Now, I have the pleasure of saying, it is my turn to do the same.

This new home is for you. Look around. I have provided for your every need! I got you that nice new furniture set you always wanted but said would never fit in our old apartment building! The nice leather brown one with the side chair and footstool. You can definitely relax now, huh? No more need to worry, ever! 

If you’re hungry, the kitchen is fully stocked with all new appliances. I know how much you hated the one faulty burner on our stove. Clothing is looked after, and I got you one of those neat robots so you never need to vacuum. Ok, maybe I just thought it was cool in the store. But I hope you enjoy it!

Don’t worry. I’ve made sure everything is secure. No one will ever come after you here. There’s digital locks on all the doors and a panic room in case of emergencies. But, I don’t think it will come to that. You never know. It’s always a good idea just to be safe.

I’m sorry I can’t be there for you right now- This job doesn’t really have a weekend. But I’ll make sure to visit you soon, whenever I can. It might be best right now that no one knows where you are, I’ve made more than a few enemies out there that we still need to deal with. But, pretty soon, it’ll all be over and then we can be together again and happy.

We’ll chat soon. I may have some further instructions for you. Make sure you follow them, and I will keep you safe.

 

I love you, mom  
  


Deku


End file.
